Tales of a Teenage Witch
by fanpire.x
Summary: Collection of short stories featuring Hermione as the main character with various pairings. Requests/prompts are welcome! Ch1: Five-year-old Hermione Granger finds an abandoned black dog in her garden and decides to adopt him into the family.
1. My Pet Bee

**AN: **So, this is a bit different. I will get around to updating _Carry the Notion_ eventually (I have ideas, don't panic), but I've wanted to do this for awhile. By the way, the following 'ficlets' aren't related at all to _A Memory's Curse_ or _Opposites Attract_, nor anything else_._

Also, if you're curious about my head canon of the Potter universe, check out the link on my profile titled Harry Potter. Now enjoy the first one-shot! :D

* * *

**Title:** My Pet Bee

**Summary:** Five-year-old Hermione Granger finds an abandoned black dog in her garden and decides to adopt him into the family.

**Genre/s:** Friendship &amp; Hurt/Comfort

**Characters:** Hermione G. | Sirius B. | [Mr. Granger &amp; Mrs. Granger]

**Rating:** K

**Warning/s:** AU

**Words: **2,187

* * *

Little Hermione was having the most wonderful day.

First her daddy had given her a new book about how bees were born and kept as pets in large containers, which really rather made her want a pet bee of her own. Then her mummy had taken her shopping for a new top, one that was bright yellow and reminded her of the honey that bees harvested. And lastly, she had gotten to eat a rare large vanilla and strawberry ice-cream because it was very, very hot—hot enough that she even spotted a few bees!

She beamed as she washed off her sticky hands and wiped any excess ice-cream from her numb lips.

The sun was still shining bright and she was anxious to go outside and play in the garden for a couple hours before settling in the shade to finish her new book.

Clutching the book tight, she made her way downstairs, kissed her daddy's cheek where he was reading the newspaper in his armchair and waved to her mummy where she was pruning a bush beside the patio doors. The grass was lovely and crisp beneath her bare feet as she ran to her favourite spot in the garden, a big tree that sheltered her from rain and was surrounded by pretty blue flowers, and she carefully put her book down.

Just as she was pulling on her imaginary gloves to pretend she was ripping out some pretend weeds in her imaginary picture perfect garden, a soft whine startled her. She glanced up at her mummy to see that she hadn't heard anything and would have shrugged off the sound if not for the second more drawn out whine that followed.

Hermione wandered cautiously towards the garden gate and peered out through the iron bars.

A quiet bark made her jump back.

Leaping to her feet with recognition, she unlatched the gate like she'd watched her parents do and edged towards the limp black dog collapsed in a ball not three feet away. Its large body shuddered as she got nearer and a whine was heard again.

Hesitantly, Hermione reached out a hand to touch its matted, dirty fur. "Doggy?" she asked softly.

The dog shuddered much more violently and rose quickly to whirl around. She squeaked in surprise, finding herself staring into two big eyes.

But the dog rapidly calmed and silenced its defensive snarl, staring back at the little girl with wariness. So Hermione mustered up her courage and reached out further to stroke its head.

Despite its grimy fur, she smiled when the dog closed its eyes and leaned into her hand.

"Who are you?" she wondered curiously.

The dog opened its eyes to look at her again.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she told it promptly.

The dog woofed quietly.

She grinned. "I think I like you. Come play with me!" She urged the dog to accompany her through her garden gate, but the dog whimpered and she suddenly realised it was limping. "Oh no!" she cried. "You're hurt! Wait here!"

And off she went, calling for her parents. Doctors Henry and Elizabeth Granger instantly rushed towards their daughter and the former scooped her up into his arms.

"What is it, darling?" he asked worriedly while his wife hovered over his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

She nodded frantically and wriggled to get down, "Yes, yes, I'm fine! But doggy isn't!" Grabbing her daddy's and mummy's hand, she pulled them both towards the gate. Bewildered, her parents followed.

When they saw the larger than normal dog, Henry kept his daughter back at a safe distance even as she pleaded with them to help. It wasn't until the dog whined pitifully that Elizabeth approached it and checked it over with caution.

She looked up at her husband with concern. "Dear, it's badly injured and malnourished. We should take it to the vets."

Swallowing, he nodded and let go of his daughter, allowing her to shoot over to the dog and throw her little arms around its neck. Henry fetched the keys then helped his wife and daughter load the dog into the car.

Hours later, the dog—a male, they had been informed—was all clean and disinfected and sporting a cone around his right foreleg.

The vets were now speaking with her parents as Hermione stroked the now conscious dog. The adults were discussing what to do with him when she finally spoke up. Throughout their conversation, she had been staring at the cone around the dog's leg. It was a sunny yellow and reminded her of her new top and book. That decided it for her.

She looked up at her parents.

"I want to keep him as a pet."

* * *

It had taken much pleading on her part, but now Hermione woke up every morning with a black shaggy dog watching her lazily.

The newly christened 'Bee' always curled up just beside her bed as if to guard her each night when she went to sleep, and she thought that he would have likely even jumped up onto her bed with her if his leg wasn't hurt.

Each morning she smiled brightly at him and leapt from under her covers to give him a cuddle. Her daddy helped her bathe him and her mummy bought dog food for her to feed him and the Granger household was an even happier place with its new addition.

Not long after finding the dog, an urgent report made its way onto the news.

"Mass murderer Sirius Black has escaped from prison. He is armed and incredibly dangerous, folks. For your safety, phone this helpline immediately if you spot this man."

Hermione was sitting beside her daddy at the time this message was released, with Bee curled up at her feet. The dog whimpered and her daddy looked at her very seriously. "Honey, I want you to be careful; no more going off on your own. Always make sure Mummy or I are with you, all right?"

"But Bee can protect me," she protested. The dog barked softly.

Henry didn't pause. "Bee is injured and wouldn't be able to protect you if, heavens forbid, you were in great danger. Now promise me you won't go anywhere alone."

She sighed, though didn't argue further because her daddy was always right. "I promise."

* * *

A few months later and Bee's leg had healed enough for the cone to be taken away. Hermione had been given strict instructions to exercise him thoroughly and she had risen to the duty with determination.

After no sightings or mentions of the escaped serial killer for so long, her parents were more lenient on letting Hermione go out on her own now. Though she still wasn't allowed far, they let her walk Bee around the block every day before dinner when the sun was high and lots of other children were still playing outside.

They lived in a nice neighbourhood and she had fun telling Bee about different memories she had growing up there as she carefully led him down the roads. The dog seemed to listen intently to her as usual and she was so glad: It made the bullies at school seem like pointless nuisances that were easily forgotten.

But one day as she walked Bee, several children flocked around the two and forced them to stop. With a rapidly sinking heart, she recognised them to be her main bullies.

"Hey, Frizzy," one of the boys jeered, "where's all your books?"

Another taunted, "Do you have so many books because you have no friends?"

Though Hermione thinned her lips and refused to speak, Bee started to growl low in his throat and lowered his neck to glare at them angrily. One of the girls looked at him in disgust. "Look at it—so pathetic. Just like you, bookworm. No wonder you get along."

"He's not pathetic," Hermione argued, unable to stop herself. She immediately regretted it when the group of bullies crowed in delight.

"Ooh, look at that," a boy sneered, "little miss know-it-all loves the mutt."

And it seemed like the boy was about to continue with his mocking but when he stepped just that tiny bit closer to her, Bee snapped his sharp teeth at him and snarled loudly.

Startled, the boy stumbled back and one of the girls wailed with fear. Another boy, however, bravely stepped forward and tried to push Hermione, apparently ignoring the dog. This was clearly a mistake as in mere seconds the boy was pushed to the floor roughly, earning some scrapes on his elbows, with Bee's two front paws atop him.

"Get away from me!" the boy cried. The other bullies ran away now, scared of the furious canine, leaving the fallen boy behind.

Hermione jumped into action, worried about the boy despite his horrid teasing and also concerned that Bee had hurt his leg again from shoving the boy.

She gripped Bee's collar, pulling him away with all her might and he let her without much fuss though he continued to growl. The boy scrambled to his feet and fled quickly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Bee, you shouldn't hurt people!" she scolded, still shaking with anxiety and adrenaline.

The dog looked at her with wide innocent eyes and whimpered at her.

"It doesn't matter if he was being mean to me," she continued, frowning. "Don't do it again."

He bowed his head sadly and whined until she threw her arms around him. She buried her face in his soft black fur and crumbled a little.

"You could have hurt yourself too," she cried and hugged him tighter. Sniffling, she sat back on her heels and rubbed at her red eyes.

Bee whined again and pressed his wet nose against her cheek before licking at the tears. She laughed tearfully. "Thank you though. I love you, Bee," she smiled at him and embraced him again. "Don't ever leave me," she mumbled into his neck.

Unbeknownst to her, the dog closed his eyes mournfully.

* * *

Weeks and weeks later, for the first time since she had found him roughly six months ago, Bee wasn't there to greet Hermione in the morning.

She spent hours searching for him around the house and made her mummy and daddy put up 'lost dog' posters on nearly every lamppost in their town. The next day she woke up feeling crushed that he still wasn't there to greet her—but yet her hope remained.

When a month had gone by, her parents started looking at her with sadness and remorse. She ignored them; their pity wasn't needed because Bee would never abandon her.

He was just lost, that was all.

Six weeks after he'd disappeared, she found her little book about bees, hidden in an alcove beside her desk. It must have fallen down there some time ago. She read through it again and cried a little as she turned the pages.

Several more months past though and then Hermione began to lose hope. After sightings of the criminal Sirius Black, she again was not allowed to go out alone. Her life consisted of her room, where she read until exhaustion hit her, and school, where the bullies started teasing her again now that her furry guardian had vanished.

She didn't go outside anymore. Not to play or even to read. She couldn't face her own garden, remembering it only as the area she'd found him.

She remained lonely for years to come. Never again did she ask for a pet and her parents didn't mention anything about one either. Bee remained in her heart and nothing would ever replace him.

And when a letter came through her letterbox from a school named Hogwarts, she wondered whether magic would be able to find him for her. She tried and tried to find some kind of spell to help her, but none were of any use.

For the first couple of friendless months at Hogwarts, she would lay at night on her new bed in Gryffindor Tower and agonise over why he had left. Maybe he had seen her use accidental magic, though try as she might she couldn't think of any such occaison.

There had simply been no need for magic to have come to her aid; not with him there beside her, guarding her.

He had made her so happy. Maybe she hadn't made him happy. Maybe that was why he'd left.

She didn't care; he was her first friend and she would love him all the same even if he did willingly abandon her. She secretly hoped he hadn't but she wouldn't blame him if he had. No one liked her, the know-it-all swot. Not even her fellow witches and wizards.

When her birthday came around on the nineteenth of September, she spent the day alone in the library, surrounded by her beloved books. And though she had no cake to eat or candles to blow out, she made a wish. She wished aloud, albeit quietly, for a friend at Hogwarts.

In her head and in her heart, she wished for her first friend. Her pet Bee.


	2. Moving In With the Potters

**AN: **So, shorter ficlet this time, more of a drabble - I have a feeling we may visit the Potters again sometime in the future, so let me know if you'd like to see a certain thing happen with them! For my idea of Potter Manor, search through my Harry Potter tumblr.

And thank you for the response to the last chappy! If I get enough requests, I may write some more for Hermione and 'Bee'. Hint, hint :P I also made a mini banner for 'My Pet Bee', which you can find on the Pictures link for this story on my profile.

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**Title: **Moving In With the Potters

**Summary: **Harry and Hermione move into Potter Manor with their family.

**Genre/s: **Family &amp; Romance

**Characters: **[Harry P. &amp; Hermione G.] | Teddy L. | James S. P. | Ron W. | Andromeda T.

**Rating: **T

**Warning/s: **AU

**Words: **1,035

* * *

"Teddy, be careful!" Andromeda exclaimed in exasperation.

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of amusement as their seven-year-old godson ran through the corridors of their new home, the very old ancestral Potter Manor. Baby James giggled and kicked his legs, daggling from his father's arms.

Ron whistled, studying the grand interior of the manor house, "This place isn't half bad."

"Thanks, mate," Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly and his friend punched him jokingly in the arm.

Hermione glanced down at the luggage being taken away to different rooms by Lolly and Toppy. "Oh, Harry, must we own house-elves?"

"They came with the manor, dear," her husband replied in a practised tone; they'd had this debate for weeks. "And they've supposedly been in the family for years—imagine how heartbroken they'd be if we freed them."

"We is pleased to be serving Potters again, Mistress!" Toppy chirped happily before vanishing with a crack.

Harry stifled a laugh at the scrunched up expression on his wife's face.

"Blimey, Hermione," Ron shook his head at her, "just enjoy it, will you?"

She sighed tiresomely and began muttering to herself about the new uniforms she'd fashion for the twenty house-elves all living and working within Potter Manor. The two men glanced at each other and chuckled.

"Want to see your room?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded, grinning. "Sure. Though, just to be clear, you didn't need to let me stay."

"Mate, you were still living with your mum," the Potter patriarch raised his brows.

"Shut up," Ron laughed. "Seriously though, I can't thank you enough."

Harry gave him a serious look, unable to pat his shoulder whilst carrying his small son. "Ron, you're my best mate. Really, we didn't mind. It's not like we didn't have the space."

The redhead shrugged. "I know. I'll still try and keep out of your way; I'll probably be round Lavender's most of the time." He wiggled his brows.

Harry grinned back.

"I'll take James," Hermione finished her mutterings and approached her husband. "You go show Ron his room."

Harry gladly passed over their son and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. She smiled indulgently at him and then looked back at baby James, letting the men make their way upstairs. "I bet you're hungry, huh? Time for Mummy to feed you."

James grinned gummily back and she kissed his soft hair, humming to him as she searched for his bottle. She settled them into the settee while the six-month-old baby suckled on his milk. Their comfortable silence was soon disturbed by Andromeda.

The older woman sat down on a comfy chair with a huff. Hermione smiled. "Teddy okay?"

"Oh yes, Teddy's fine," Andromeda made a face. "He's exploring his new room after making his poor grandmother chase after him."

Hermione laughed. "He gets his energy from his mother."

"Hmmm, well I wanted to thank you, dear. For letting me stay, that is."

"Don't be silly, Andy. You're family. You and Teddy both."

The older witch pat her knee. "I know, dear; you keep reminding me." Andromeda smiled. "So, where's my room?"

"We put you down the hall from Teddy," Hermione grinned. "We knew you probably wouldn't want to be far from him."

"And you were right, of course."

The women chatted with one another for a while and soon baby James was snoozing in his mother's arms, happy with his full tummy. Eventually Harry ventured back downstairs and kissed his wife's cheek, joining her.

"That's my cue to go settle in," Andromeda winked and left the couple alone.

"So, how did Ron like his room?" Hermione smiled knowingly.

Harry chuckled. "Cried a bit. Sappy sod." He gently stroked James' head. "This one looks tuckered out."

She hummed, leaning comfortably against her husband as she carefully rearranged their son in her lap. Harry wrapped his arms around them both and rested his head atop her shoulder, staring down at the baby.

After a few moments of blissful silence, he murmured, "I still can't believe he's ours."

"I can," Hermione winced. "His birth isn't something I'll forget."

Harry laughed quietly and brushed his lips along her neck. She turned to meet them with hers and they shared a long, meaningful kiss. When they pulled apart, he smiled at her. "Thank you."

"For what?" she chuckled.

He caressed her cheek slowly. "Being here, in my life. For meeting me and being my friend despite our somewhat rocky start. Then sticking by me through all the rubbish I've gone through. And for saying yes when I asked you to be my wife and for bringing my son into the world."

"Well, you're welcome then if that's all," she joked and he kissed her grinning lips again, unable to stop himself.

Their moment was interrupted by James wriggling about between them. They looked down to find him staring up at them both with big brown eyes.

"Hey there, bud," his father greeted. The baby reached up with tiny fists and curled his hand around Harry's offered finger.

"Aunt Mya!" Teddy suddenly rushed into the room and jumped onto the settee beside Hermione.

She smirked and bounced James a little in her arms. "Yes, Teddy?"

Momentarily distracted, he waved at little James before getting back on track. "Can we go to Diagon Alley and find more books to fill my _ginormous_ bookshelves?" he exaggerated his words, stretching out his arms wide to emphasis even more just how large the bookshelves in his room were.

His godmother beamed proudly. "Of course! I need some new purchases as well."

"Can we go _now_?" the seven-year-old begged.

She glanced at Harry, who was watching the two in amusement, and gave him a pleading look, complete with a small pout. He held up his hands, chortling. "Sure, go now. Who am I to stand in the way of you bookworms and your books?"

"Thanks, Uncle Harry!" Teddy cheered and raced away to get his coat. "Come on, Auntie, hurry up!"

Hermione passed James over to his father and planted a kiss on his wispy hair before leaving another on her husband's lips. He responded instantly.

"I love you," she smiled at him.

He grinned cheekily back. "I know, Mrs. Potter. Now get going."


	3. Double the Trouble

**AN: **I was gonna write a Remus ficlet, but I didn't have any ideas - suggestions? Instead, here's some Fred and George! This one is more saucy than I'm used to writing, but it was fun :]

I've made a banner for the last chappy, so click this story's 'Pictures' link on my profile! And thank you for the comments, alerts and favourites :D

* * *

**Title: **Double the Trouble

**Summary: **Fred and George have been scheming for months and finally their plan to seduce the brightest witch of their age can be put into action.

**Genre/s: **Romance &amp; Humour

**Characters: **[Fred W. &amp; Hermione G. &amp; George W.]

**Rating: **M

**Warning/s:** AU, smut, threesome, hints of twincest and slash, language

**Words: **2,778

* * *

Hermione was sitting quite happily in the school library, quietly reading her book on defensive spells and how to actually use them (if Professor Umbridge wouldn't teach her, then she would educate herself), when suddenly the silence was broken.

"Afternoon," dual voices greeted her as two figures sat either side of her chair.

She looked up, startled, to see Fred and George grinning at her. Glancing around quickly for any sign of Madam Pince, she relaxed minutely upon remembering that she was in a dark corner very deep into Hogwarts' expansive library where the strict librarian nor any fellow students could see her.

"What are you two doing in here?" she asked warily. The twins didn't normally venture into the library unless it was to cause mischief. She was immediately cautious.

"Can't we visit our favourite bookworm?" Fred asked innocently.

She gave him an unamused expression. "Why are you here?" she repeated and at their shared grin, she frowned disapprovingly. "And why do you look so happy with yourselves?"

There must be a prank at play; it was the only logical explanation.

"See, we've been researching—" George told her, smiling.

"And we found that Muggle customs are a bit different to ours," Fred continued, a delightfully mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

"While us wizards and witches frown upon any time before adulthood—"

"The age at which Muggles can legally have sex is sixteen."

While the twins spoke, they were crowding ever closer to her until she was sandwiched between the two tall redheads. Hermione stared up at them both in bewilderment.

George carried on, "Now, we were gonna wait and be good little wizards—"

"But we really couldn't wait any longer—"

"And we figured this year would be perfect!"

"Because it's our last one and all—"

"And because our wonderfully oblivious Ronnikins might get the courage to ask you out soon—"

"So we wanted to make sure we made ourselves clear first," Fred finished, grinning wickedly.

Looking between them she asked slowly, "Make what clear?"

But the twins said no more, merely stood and took each of her hands to pull her up from her chair too. Reluctantly, she let them, hoping it would make them tell her quicker. Her thoughts were forgotten when George entangling his fingers in her hair and cupped the back of her head before pulling her into a long kiss.

Hermione hadn't had much experience with boys or kissing. Viktor had been a short affair that largely consisted of the Yule Ball itself and, though the two still exchanged friendly letters, she wouldn't call him her boyfriend.

She was hardly aware of her own surroundings as George snogged her against the table she'd been reading at. And when he pulled away, her lips were stolen again by Fred who proceeded to make her feel even more light-headed.

The twin gave her an evocative smile as he left her flushed and breathless. "Clear enough?"

She couldn't speak. Her surprise was visible.

George smirked. "I don't think it is, you know."

"Hm, phase two then?" Fred suggested and the two shared a grin.

"What are you—" Hermione managed to choke out, but faltered when Fred grasped her hips and lifted her onto the table, positioning himself behind her and pressing his chest flush with her back. Meanwhile George slipped off her shoes and trailed his fingers along her legs, over the black tights that covered her.

"We're seducing you," George explained lightly, stroking her thighs.

She stared at him in bewilderment but there was no obvious denial, so he trailed his fingers higher and latched onto the waistband of her tights. Giving Fred a nod, who lifted her up easily, George dragged her tights down her legs and off her feet entirely.

Seeing that Hermione was still unresponsive from sheer shock, the two waited for her to gather her nerves.

"You just," she stuttered and then shook her head wordlessly.

George glanced at Fred, who gave him a pointed look, and asked softly, "Do you want to continue?"

They gave her a chance to digest that question and she only blinked for a long while.

But then, her face cleared and she nodded faintly without a sound. They both grinned widely.

While Fred ran his fingers through her hair, gently tugging knots loose and teasingly scraping his nails against her scalp, George slipped his hands beneath her black uniform skirt again. She blushed this time but let him hook his thumbs into her cotton nickers and slowly drag the underwear down her thighs. She leaned back more heavily on her arms and lifted her hips to help him, feeling Fred kiss her forehead wetly.

"Virgin white?" George teased her, holding up her nickers. She blushed further. He dropped the underwear and went back to stroking her thighs.

Fred's fingers moved from her hair to her hips and dipped beneath the waistband of her skirt to untuck her blouse, placing his large hands over her slim bare stomach. His head appeared next to her ear, his chin resting on her shoulder, and he pressed his cheek to hers before burying his face in her neck, kissing and sucking and nibbling. She groaned quietly.

While her eyes closed, George bent down and spread her legs open wider to accommodate his broad shoulders. Her calves hung limply from the table, draped just so over his back as he pushed her skirt up more and placed a playfully light kiss on her exposed nether lips.

Hermione's eyes shot open in surprise and she tried to sit up.

"Ah, ah," Fred scolded her, holding her still and reaching up to bite her earlobe softly in reprimand. "Relax and let Georgie work."

A hot tongue rubbed along her lower lips before she could responded and instantly her eyes closed again and she arched her back against the twins. The tongue licked at her nub softly, her hips bucking to follow it without thought, before it stroked all along her sex in agonisingly slow motions.

Fred added to her pleasure by running his hands up and down her torso underneath her blouse and kissing her throat without reserve. When he licked just below her ear, she moaned and entangled a hand in his hair, mussing it up. He let her put her entire weight on him rather than on her own hands and smiled to himself as he kissed and nibbled at the newly-found sweet spot on her neck.

With one hand clutching at Fred's hair, keeping him at her throat, her other crept down to do the same with George's hair, keeping him snug between her legs. George's fingers dug into the flesh on her thighs, holding them open and on the table.

As he dipped his tongue into the folds of her nether region, she found herself thrashing between the two identical brothers, much less concerned about being found than she had been previously.

Soon George's strong tongue was slipping into her, one of his hands now at her rubbing circles into her nub, and Fred was unbuttoning her blouse and chucking it out of the way. The latter kept her steady whilst moving round to lock lips with her. She kissed him back fiercely, a hand still in each of the twins' hair.

And then she felt herself nearing the edge of sweet oblivion and overpowered George's hold to wrap her legs around his neck, pushing at his head to press him closer to her slit.

Fred absorbed her pants and cries with his busy mouth, still snogging the daylights out of her, and when she reached that place of ecstasy, he held her tight, letting her rock through the tide of pleasure.

Breaking away from him, she loosened her grips on their hair and shuddered through the aftershocks of her release as George licked gently at her nub.

When her body had settled, she opened her eyes almost drowsily.

Fred grinned at her. "I think she's satisfied, George."

Leaning carefully away from her mound, her legs still wrapped around his neck, George grinned back, his mouth visibly wet. "Most definitely, Fred."

"Should we go for the big finale?"

"Might as well go out with a bang."

Somewhat disorientated, Hermione simply lay herself down on the table and closed her eyes, their words hardly computing in her mind. She merely heard and felt the twins moving around her, taking their clothes off and murmuring to each other.

And then a strange sensation spread over her stomach where she imagined her womb was, and another, slightly more uncomfortable, sensation rushed through her bottom. She looked to see George waving his wand over her, his tongue between his teeth in concentration. Both he and Fred were now naked before her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, stammering slightly in her exhaustion.

"Just preventing a few things," Fred winked.

It took a moment before she partially understood. Clearly the first sensation had been the protection spell, meant to prevent pregnancy (somewhere in her mind, she felt extremely grateful that had they thought of this), but the latter sensation stumped her.

But when her rectum seemed to relax more than it ever had yet feel weirdly stretched all at once, she realised what they were going to do.

"No, no, no," she muttered, shaking her head now, willing her body to move. Fred kept her still, glancing to make sure George wasn't disturbed from his enchanting. She tried to struggle with her limp limbs. "You can't, it'll hurt," she managed to get out.

Fred hushed her tenderly, "It won't, I promise. That's what the spell's for."

"You don't know," she argued stubbornly. "It could still be painful."

But he smiled at her adoringly. "Brightest witch of our age and you didn't see it? Guess we're better than we thought."

"What?" she frowned, her mind slowly clearing as the last of her pleasure faded completely.

"You know, there was a time when pure-blood lore dictated that relatives even closer than second-cousins could marry—to save the line, you understand." He sighed. "Nowadays things are a bit different and the only pure-bloods to still believe in that are the really old blood purists."

While he spoke, George had finished the spell, leaving Hermione feeling rather exposed and vulnerable. He stood between her legs still, grinning.

"There's this thing called a soul bond," he added, helping to explain. "I'm sure you've heard of it." She nodded absently. "Well, years ago, it wasn't uncommon for twins to be born with a soul bond, especially if they were of opposing genders. A twin soul bond is rare now, but Fred and I… we've always known."

Fred held out an arm to him and George clasped it, the two of them holding each other's forearm. They looked at Hermione, united, and suddenly everything made sense to her.

"So this spell…" she motioned down at her bottom, blushing. "You know it works because you've performed it on one another?"

They nodded, sharing a devilish grin.

"Well then, Granger," George raised a brow at her, "you want to find out how it feels?"

And, still blushing, she nodded back.

Immediately the twins were moving. Fred sat himself on the table next to her and helped George lift her so that she sat atop him, his chest at her back again and his engorged member trapped below her. She wiggled on it, unable to resist, and heard him groan. His fingers tightened around her hips as his head fell onto the nape of her neck.

"Fuck, this is gonna be amazing," he muttered into her skin.

"Calm yourself, Georgie," Fred warned teasingly. "You don't wanna come before we even get inside her."

Hermione shivered at their words.

George huffed and stroked his long fingers over her hipbones, kissing her jugular. His twin bent to give a few little licks to her nipples before pecking her lips.

"Now," he breathed, cupping her face in his hands gently and guiding her dilated eyes to look at his, "you are definitely a virgin, right?"

She nodded against his palms, seeming incapable of speech.

"All right, I just wanted to make sure. We'll be gentle with you then." He winked and oh so slowly positioned his erection at the apex of her thighs.

She watched with baited breath, excitement and anxiety bubbling up inside of her. George kept her calm with sweet kisses and caresses but once Fred had slipped the head of his member into her entrance, she could only focus on that.

It wasn't exactly painful at first, though she certainly felt stretched. And then, after he was over halfway in, sharp twinges encompassed her as he broke through her hymen. During her aching discomfort, she felt a glass vial being nudged at her mouth and opened her eyes (hardly aware she'd ever closed them) to see Fred urging her to swallow the potion contents. She did instantly, trusting his judgement, and was rewarded when the pain abated.

"Better?" Fred inquired, and now that she could concentrate, she realised his face was one of tortured pleasure.

"Much," she replied, moving her hips forward on George's lap. The twins both groaned, Fred much more so having been squeezed further inside her.

He took her waist and pushed himself deeper eagerly, eyes clenched shut. Hermione spied George's hands curving round his brother's backside as they left her hips and, reminded, Fred opened his blue orbs to look at her again.

"Are you ready?" he asked her seriously.

Too busy relishing in the sensations he was creating within her, she only belatedly understood when, at her automatic nod, he gathered her up into his arms, the two still intimately connected, and lifted until her bottom was poised over George's pelvis.

The seated twin held his own throbbing member steady while his brother carefully lowered her onto him. With the previous spells strongly in effect, he impaled her easily without any harm.

"Oh," she moaned loudly, fuller than she could have ever imagined, and her breath was forced from her lungs entirely when she sunk down further onto him, right until her arse cheeks were flush with his groin. Fred rode her down the whole way, leaving her with two hard erections snug inside her.

"Fuck, fuck," Fred hissed, "that's so tight."

"Oh yeah," George agreed, breathless. "Merlin this feels so good!"

Hermione bucked uncontrollably between them, rocking and sliding herself back and forth, lost in an abyss of ecstasy. Her moans echoed around them and the brothers didn't let her go it alone, adding their own groans and grunts to the mix as they thrust together, humping into her from back sides.

"More," she pleaded, "oh god, please more."

"Shit," Fred swore and sped up his thrusts, shoving her harder down onto George and bottoming out inside her wet cavern.

She cried out, her hands clasping over Fred's shoulders, her nails digging into his back and she practically convulsed. George slipped his arms around her stomach and pressed his hands down on her abdomen in just the right spot and suddenly she could feel them both even more.

Without warning, her eyes rolled back into her head and her body shuddered violently as she clamped down on the two poles impaling her.

"That's it," George encouraged. "Come for us."

She wailed with the intensity of her orgasm and had no respite from their doubled pounding to relax at all. Within minutes, she was quaking again in their arms. Fred gritted his teeth and, after pulling out slightly, adjusted her hips to a different angle before shoved himself back inside her.

Hermione's eyes shot open and she stared at Fred almost unseeingly. As George pressed down harder on her abdomen and Fred gave a particularly hard shove inside her, her mouth popped open and a high keening sound escaped her seconds before liquid gushed from her slit.

"Fuck me," Fred groaned, watching her.

George moaned, feeling her rectum restrict around him nearly to the point of pain, and finally came within her. Only moments later, it all overwhelmed his brother too, who sunk himself as deep as he could get before squirting streams of his sperm inside her.

The three panted heavily for many minutes, stuck together with sweat and sexual juices. Once her orgasm had completely worked its way out of her system, Hermione collapsed in an unconscious bundle between the twins, who shared a grin and laughed.

"Well, I think we definitely made ourselves clear," Fred remarked, reaching round to embrace both the witch and wizard beneath him.

George only hummed in agreement and kissed Hermione's slick back.


	4. From First Sight

**AN: **So this one is a lot shorter, definitely a drabble. I confess, I really do love Neville. I'll probably write a lot more for him and Hermione in the future :]

Like always, a poster has been made for the last chapter. And thank you to everyone reading!

* * *

**Title: **From First Sight

**Summary: **Neville contemplates his feelings for the girl who helped him on the train.

**Genre/s: **Romance | Friendship

**Characters: **[Hermione G. &amp; Neville L.]

**Rating: **K

**Warning/s: **None (I think)

**Words: **542

* * *

He remembered meeting her for the first time.

She had been in her school robes already, and it had made him worry about whether he should change too. Her hair was wild and frizzy, her teeth a little big for her mouth, but he thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

Neville hadn't had many friends growing up with his grandmother. She had sometimes set up play dates with other children, but the ones he'd even vaguely liked only played with him a few times.

He was all right with being a loner; it gave him plenty of time with his plants.

But upon seeing her, suddenly he had wanted her to be his friend. So he had went over to her, had asked her if she needed help putting her trunk into the overhead shelf, and she had offered to share her compartment with him.

She was so lovely, and a bit overwhelming, he had decided. She went into a long speech about how excited she was about Hogwarts and finding out she was a witch and then she asked him lots of question after finding out he was a pure-blood.

He hadn't minded though. She was earnestly interested in what he had to say, even if he didn't sound particularly smart. She listened to him ramble about plants and she even seemed curious when he mentioned his pet toad Trevor.

And then when he couldn't find the toad to show her, she immediately offered to help find him and took control while he panicked. She had told him to go search a number of other compartments and ask people if they'd seen Trevor, while she did the same.

Despite not finding the amphibian, they had journeyed back to their carriage and she assured him that Trevor would turn up eventually. She was right, as usual.

The two of them hadn't spent an awful lot of time together after that, not until Fifth Year when she set up Dumbledore's Army, though she always helped him in lessons—especially Potions. And when she was petrified in Second Year, he visited her bedside many times to simply sit beside her and hold her frozen hand until Madam Pomphrey shooed him out.

She was never mean to him, never made fun of him, and he liked her all the more for it.

He had thought a great deal about asking her to the Yule Ball in Fourth Year, and had even spent ages gathering the courage to do it. When she declined due to already having had a date, he tried not to be disappointed and told himself that she wouldn't have said yes anyway.

Neville wasn't the kind of guy who girls fell for. He was the 'good friend', the one who was always there, but not boyfriend material. And for the most part, he was okay with that.

But sometimes, it didn't half irritate him.

For all those years he'd fancied her, ever since first sight, she had never looked twice at him. He knew it was all a lost cause after how upset she got at Ron's relationship with Lavender. Clearly, she already liked someone.

So he ignored his feelings and focused on his plants. They always liked him.


	5. It's Just Simple Maths

**AN: **Finally I have a Remus ficlet for you :] I'm finding it hard thinking of ideas for him so I may end up changing the characters list for this story... But anywho, for an idea of how Arithmancy works, I will soon be posting about it in my HP tumblr, so look out for that!

Last chappy's banner is up - I think it would be safe to assume that when I update, it means that the last one-shot's poster has been made ;]

* * *

**Title: **It's Just Simple Maths

**Summary: **After a few Arithmancy calculations,Hermione starts to fancy her DADA professor.

**Genre/s: **Romance | General

**Characters: **[Hermione G. &amp; Remus L. &amp; N. Tonks]

**Rating: **T

**Warning/s: **AU (sort of), big age difference, professor/student one-sided crush

**Words: **1,430

* * *

It started when she was completing her Arithmancy homework.

As they had only just started the course and needed to be introduced slowly to its complex nature, Professor Sinistra had given the class a relatively easy assignment. Hermione simply needed to figure out the character number for ten different people.

Her first chosen individuals were herself and her parents. She found that she was a four, which suited her perfectly, and that her mother and father were fives. She smiled; obviously her parents belonged together.

Next she used Harry and Ron, leading to them both getting twos, so clearly that explained their instant friendship. Glancing up, she noticed Neville was also in the Common Room, tending to his latest plant. She decided to do his character number next, finding that he was a five, like her parents.

Then, out of curiosity, she did Fred and George, interested in how twins would correlate. They got six and three respectively, which made sense; together they made nine, which (like them) was a force to be reckoned with.

She studied her list of names and equations. She needed two more people.

Pursing her lips, she used Professor Dumbledore's name and wasn't shocked to find that he was a one. The headmaster was clearly a leader; she should have known really.

And then, when no other names sprang to mind, she thought back to earlier that day and eventually decided upon her new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

He'd been wonderful; the best professor to be appointed for the post yet. She was glad they would finally be taught DADA properly. Having observed him closely during the lesson, she considered him kind and fair to all students, with a natural flair for teaching.

He was a four.

This didn't particularly surprise her, she found, but she was intrigued to see that he shared her own character number.

The next morning at breakfast, she studied him from the Gryffindor table. And though she hadn't intended to, she realised that he had a strange appeal. For the next few weeks, she continued to watch him.

It took a mere month for her to understand that she was attracted to him.

It took her another to note that he grew sick around the full moon.

* * *

One morning, she purposefully arrived for Defence Against the Dark Arts early. No other students had left breakfast yet, including Ron and Harry who had hardly noticed her leaving in their half-asleep states.

Professor Lupin was standing beside his desk, rummaging through a pile of parchment.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he smiled upon seeing her, "you're rather early."

His voice was a lovely baritone; it sunk into her skin and surrounded her warmly much like her bed covers at home. She sat at the front of the classroom and pulled out her textbook.

"I wanted to reread a few chapters before class," she explained—it was such a convincing lie that he said no more and in fact even hummed, as if remarking that he should have known.

She took the chance to stare at him inconspicuously. Up close now, she could make out tiny scars littering his face, neck and hands. They criss-crossed in some places or dragged diagonally in others, some deeper and more puckered, most shiny and just a tone lighter than his flesh colour.

His methodical movements fascinated her. Every move he made was slow and deliberate, every stroke of his long fingers on the parchment considered, and though he took no notice of his scars, he didn't exude any particular confident arrogance.

After shuffling through another pile of work, he rested his hip against the desk and looked at her kindly. Luckily she had seen his intentions and put her head down in time to appear engrossed with reading.

"Are you enjoying your lessons?" he inquired.

She glanced up, inwardly pleased that he had started a conversation, and nodded. "The material is harder than last year, and I already missed so many classes because of the basilisk attacks. It was dreadful." As soon as she said that, she wondered if he'd think badly of her for liking school, as everyone in her year did.

But he only nodded and she decided that the approving glint of kinship in his caramel eyes proved that he was indeed a four.

"Yes, I heard you were one of the students petrified. No lasting effects, I hope," he was concerned. She knew he meant any lasting mental trauma.

"No, I'm fine," she smiled.

"Well, that's good to hear. If you do though," he added, "I'm always available to help."

She resisted the urge to swoon at his thoughtfulness, fearing that she would look too much like she did last year with Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Lupin likely wouldn't appreciate it.

The two spoke about the topics he would be teaching today and she tried not to look disappointed when the rest of the class came bumbling in. That night she had a dream wherein he had invited her into his office to chat about her experience with the Basilisk. It had somehow transitioned into him sitting very close beside her with his large hand on her knee, his thumb stroking the skin where her skirt had rose up.

Her dream-self then leaned with uncharacteristic forwardness and kissed his soft lips, her neck stretched because he was so much taller than her meagre height.

In the morning, she had awoken with gasping breaths and a thumping heart. The imagined memory of his hands on her waist and hers in his hair made her jittery for the day.

* * *

The whole of Third Year carried on with similar incidences. Having a Time Turner was a great responsibility too, and she couldn't resist using it a few times simply to catch Professor Lupin on his own.

She figured out very early on about his affliction. Afterwards, she noted down his behaviour and decided that werewolves were not unlike humans; some were bad and some were good. It just so happened that they were more dangerous on a full moon.

She wondered if he took Wolfsbane Potion, which she knew to be a very difficult to get a hold of, but then thought that he must take it. As a teacher, he would transform around hundreds of children every month and was responsible for their wellbeing.

The whole occurrence with Sirius Black appearing out of nowhere, Scabbers actually being Peter Pettigrew, and Professor Lupin changing without having taken Wolfsbane Potion certainly unsettled her. She had felt so very betrayed when she'd assumed that he was letting a mass murderer into the castle.

When the night was over and word of his resignation spread, she felt awful for thinking badly of him. She had no chance to speak with him though; he left the school before she could.

It was a long time before she saw him again, though she waited patiently with a heavy heart. The summer before Fifth Year, when she was sent to 12 Grimmauld Place, was full of secret glances at the former professor.

He had smiled at her very warmly when she arrived and she had blushed until Ron dragged her upstairs to play wizards' chess. At dinner that night, she was seated beside Remus (as he told her continuously to call him) and she squirmed just a little when her leg accidentally brushed against his beneath the table.

* * *

Meeting Nymphadora Tonks was interesting. She was wonderfully bubbly, though a downright klutz. But Hermione was disheartened upon noticing the multiple times that the Metamorphmagus looked over to Remus. Though he seemed unaware, it was clear she fancied him.

Later that night, Hermione went through her trusty Arithmancy calculations. Tonks, as she liked to be called, was a seven.

A seven and a four; they didn't particularly work well together, she supposed. Unless one believed in the phrase 'opposites attract', which she did not. So, with a lighter heart, she fell asleep.

But then just a year later, after Dumbledore's flight off of the Astronomy Tower and the subsequent battle with Death Eaters, Tonks declared her love for the werewolf who returned the sentiments.

Hermione was thankful her friends didn't ask why she was so quiet after that. After all, the night had been terrible for everyone with their beloved headmaster's death.

When she climbed into bed just hours later, she wondered whether personality numbers really mattered. She knew several couples whose numbers did not match though they seemed perfect together.

And for the first time, she doubted the legitimacy of her favourite subject.


	6. Wine for Two

**AN: **The idea for this ficlet was a request from BobbyStark - hopefully you like it! :D Also, I may be slower with the next chappy so apologies in advance.

I'm not really sure why lemons are always in the library... I guess Hermione just loves her books ;]

* * *

**Title: **Wine for Two

**Summary: **Some strong wizarding wine leads to a surprising impromptu tryst in the library of 12 Grimmauld Place.

**Genre/s: **Romance

**Characters: **[Hermione G. &amp; Sirius B.]

**Rating: **M

**Warning/s: **AU, smut, language, big age difference

**Words: **1,960

* * *

Christmas was quite lively this year. The dreary house of 12 Grimmauld Place was filled with Weasleys and Order members and, of course, Harry and Hermione. Mr. Weasley had just been given leave from St. Mungo's and was constantly being fretted over by his wife, who cooked plate upon plate of food.

Hermione, however, felt somewhat subdued.

When it was late at night, while everyone slept in their beds, she crept from her shared room with Ginny and snuck into the large library. She fingered some of the old tomes, holding back a sneeze when dust powdered the air, and took a large volume out regarding Occlumency.

Harry had been worrying her lately, what with his scar hurting and these visions from You Know Who revealing themselves. She knew Professor Snape wasn't being very helpful and so she had decided to look up the subject herself.

The Blacks' library was drool-worthy and did indeed contain the needed reading material as she had hoped. She didn't want anyone to know and she was sure Ginny would have found the book had she taken it back to their room, so each night she would come in here and research.

She wasn't aware how much time had passed, but just as another yawn assaulted her, she heard the door creak open. Freezing, she quickly hid the book under others and tried to assume an innocent expression.

It was Sirius, she realised, and he was carrying a goblet of dark liquid—alcohol, she suspected.

"What are you doing up?" he asked quietly, joining her on the stiff-backed settee.

She shrugged, looking away. "Couldn't sleep."

He watched her, smiling knowingly. "Ah, I see." When he didn't say anything more, she let out the breath she'd been surreptitiously holding. He took a sip of his drink and then gestured to it once he saw her looking. "I'm not sure what it is exactly," he winked at her. "Very old and expensive though. I found it hidden in the wine cellar."

She furrowed her brows. "Should you really be drinking it if you don't know what it is?"

"Makes life fun," he grinned and then sighed, the joy flushing from his face as he gazed around at the library. "There's not much else worth living for. Holed up in this place… it's just like my childhood. Suffocating."

It might have been the glum emptiness in his eyes or perhaps exhaustion had made her delirious, but she reached over and placed a gentle hand on his knee.

"You're not alone though," she smiled encouragingly. "There's plenty to live for."

And while their eyes were locked together, she took the goblet from him and took a sip of his wine. The taste was slightly bitter yet pleasant, she found, a bit like raspberries. It was heady and strong, deceiving in its thinness. She swallowed it and immediately felt her head rush.

As she lowered the ornate glass cup, Sirius leaned forward and let his mouth brush along her pink lips, collecting the dark liquid that had gathered there.

She gasped, her lips parting fully. He licked his wet tongue inside just once. Then he pulled back and stared at her, and she watched his eyes darken with something she'd been quite unaware of thus far.

Rather quickly, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her more firmly. Simply from a small sip, she felt drunk and without inhibitions, returning the kiss fiercely. He held her close to him, caressing her back through the flimsy top she wore, and dipped a hand beneath it to seek skin.

"Sirius," she breathed heavily.

"I know, love," he murmured back and pulled her atop his lap, entwining his other hand in her hair and palming her slender neck.

Her hips rocked forwards as her own hands clutched at his robes, desperate for something to ground her as his tongue wrapped sinfully around hers.

Groaning as his lips deviated to trail along her neck and collarbone, she pulled at her top and he helped her remove it. Her hair frizzed even more so as the fabric was pushed over it, curling over her bra-covered chest. His strong hand brushed along the tops of her small breasts, stroking the soft skin reverently and making her arch into him before he unclasped the bra and she let it slip onto the floor.

Staring into her dilated brown eyes, he leaned down and took a budded nipple into his mouth, suckling at it gently. She shakily inhaled and grasped at his silky hair, watching him with shallow breaths while he held her smooth back as he sucked, pressing her hips flush with his.

When he paused and moved back up to kiss her swollen lips, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into her as she rocked forwards on his lap. He could feel her heat through the pyjama shorts she wore, the delicious warmth sinking down through layers of cloth to his responsive member.

She squirmed against his lips as he snuck a hand below the waistband of her shorts. "Please," she begged, and he obliged, muttering a spell he'd learnt decades ago to make their clothes disappear.

She gasped at the sudden bare skin that rubbed sensually against hers and clung to his neck as he guided her back down onto the settee, settling himself over her panting form.

At this moment, she didn't care that what they were doing was wrong, that this was her best friend's godfather, that he was twenty years her senior. Nothing mattered except his naked flesh against hers.

"Come here, love," he crooned softly and drew her lips to his again.

When her lungs ached for more air, he moved his mouth to her ear. His black hair fell around her face like a curtain, enshrouding them with intimate privacy.

"Do you want it, Kitten?" he asked her huskily. She nodded in silence. "Tell me how much."

"More than anything." Her voice was hoarse and perhaps a tad shy, but there was no embarrassment between them. She felt safe with the experienced older man leading her.

"You want me to make you come?" he breathed.

"Yes," she moaned, her hips circling wantonly. "Sirius, please…"

"Shh," he hushed gently, kissing her earlobe.

His hand stroked down her side, brushing her breasts, curving over her slender hips. It tickled her inner thigh and then a padded thumb lightly touched her nub.

He darkly watched her face fold in rapture, her mouth popping mouth soundly.

A finger slipped down and rubbed around her opening before dipping inside.

"Fuck, you're wet," he hissed and pressed a hot kiss on the side of her neck.

Slowly he moved his body down so that her slim thighs bracketed his broad shoulders. She opened herself up to his view freely, groaning as his finger slid out of her then back in.

"Such a pretty little puss," he admired and then bent to give it a chaste peck.

While she wriggled slightly, he licked her hard nub vigorously but stopped when she groaned and practically curled in on herself.

"Look at me, Kitten," he coaxed. "Keep your eyes on mine. Watch me make you come undone."

"Oh god," she moaned and lulled her head back and forth with pleasure as his finger kept a steady rhythm of thrusts. Then, abruptly, they stopped. Her eyes shot open, frantic.

"Look at me," he ordered, firmly now. Her gaze locked onto his. His face was commanding, his posture frozen above her until she obeyed, and then, with their eyes on each other's, his finger moved again.

He lapped at her nether lips, collecting moisture and lavishing it on her nub, sucking and licking as she bucked beneath his expert mouth. Another finger was slipped inside her to join the first and together they crooked to touch a spongy area deeper still.

She panted and cried helplessly, overwhelmed with ecstasy, but her brown eyes remained connected to his stormy greys as she climbed heights she'd never known. When she hung on the edge of a cliff, he paused just long enough to purr, "That's it, Kitten," and then he sped up his debauchery.

Her entire body shook and quivered beneath his hands and mouth with her release, so much so that he held his free hand atop her stomach to steady her. When she had finally calmed, he separated from her sensitive nether region and surfaced to hold her in his strong arms. She snuggled down and tiredly rested her head against him, her eyes slipping closed lazily.

He stroked her hair affectionately and squeezed her, kissing her head.

"Good girl," he praised softly.

She smiled contently and pressed her lips to the skin nearest to her on his chest. For a while he just cradled her; the library was quiet and peaceful around them and his hand caressing along her back made Hermione sleepy after having just recovered from an orgasm.

But when her eyes slipped shut, she determinedly made herself open them again.

"I want you inside me," she whispered, breaking the silence.

Sirius looked down to meet her gaze, smirking a little. "You sure about that, Kitten?"

She nodded resolutely.

He stroked a hand down her leg and wrapped his hand around her thigh, pulling it up over his hip. It was as if her hips had been made to closely hug his, so welcoming they were to his pelvic bone. A few spells were spoken, those too having been learnt long ago, and then he guided himself to her.

Upon wedging the head just inside, she gasped quietly and clutched onto him.

"That feel good, baby girl?" he murmured and she nodded again, biting her plump bottom lip. "Circe, you're so tight," he grunted and shunted his hips forwards to bury himself within her.

The combination of wine and charms eased any pain she may have felt from losing her virginity, even heightening her lust and need for him. Digging her blunt nails into the muscles of his back, she rocked beneath him furiously.

"Easy, Kitten," he cooed and captured her lips with his. She barely heard him, instead sliding her hands down his back to push on his arse. Excited by her uncharacteristic wildness, he grinned against her mouth and began to drive himself within her roughly.

"Yes, yes," she gasped into his mouth and bit his lip hard.

He groaned, the little bit of pain just adding to the heaven of feeling her snug around his girth, squeezing and milking his entire length.

"Fuck," he grunted and put his face in her hair, gripping her hips tightly and shoving himself more powerfully into her.

Their bodies were entangled as they rutted against one another, their skin slick with sweat and their moans filling the empty space between bookshelves and furniture. The air grew hot around them yet still they clung closer to each other, refusing to part an inch.

Her peak came suddenly and loudly with a cry, her body writhing with spasms as she rocked through her orgasm. He kept her wrapped in his embrace, not stopping. Several moments later, he pressed her arse tight against his groin and spent himself within her welcoming depths amidst a groan.

Their breaths came in harsh pants while they relaxed their tense frames in each other's arms. And for a long time, they stayed that way, neither sleeping nor talking. They rested themselves with the comforting knowledge that they were alone with the other.

And, when Hermione eventually slipped from his embrace, smiling adorably at him with her hair all mussed up, Sirius laughed quietly.

"I think wine suits you, Kitten," he smiled and kissed her still darkened lips. She simply grinned back.


	7. Inseparable Souls

**AN: **I think it's about time for some girl centricity ;] This ficlet felt a bit rushed, but I didn't know how to fix it - sorry!

* * *

**Title: **Inseparable Souls

**Summary: **Lily is lonely after breaking her friendship with Severus and she is tired of being pestered by James and his crew. When spending lunchtime in the girls' toilets, she meets a kindred spirit.

**Genre/s:** Friendship &amp; Romance

**Characters: **[Hermione G. &amp; Lily Evans P.]

**Rating: **T

**Warning/s: **AU, femslash

**Words:** 1,480

* * *

The girls' bathroom was quiet and cold when Lily entered.

She couldn't bare eating lunch with the others in the Great Hall, not after the week she'd had. First her best friend had called her something absolutely dreadful and then Potter had followed her around for the next few days, sprouting stories about how awful Severus was and that, don't worry, Lily, he'd always be around to defend her honour—oh and did she want to go to Hogsmeade with him for a pint of butterbeer?

She'd been repressing the urge to scream at him for five days now; all she wanted was to be left alone to mope around in peace after losing her best friend.

But, as luck would have it, not even the girls' bathroom was empty.

Lily paused in the doorway upon noticing that a small brunette was sitting on the floor beside some cubicles, reading a book as she chewed on an apple. The girl looked up. "Hi," she smiled shyly.

"Hello," Lily returned somewhat awkwardly. "Sorry, I didn't realise anyone was in here. I'll just go…"

"No, that's all right," the younger girl shook her head. She gestured to the toilet stalls. "It's a public restroom after all."

The redhead nodded faintly and crossed to one of the sinks, feeling silly.

To save herself the embarrassment of being caught trying to spend her lunchtime in the toilets, she determinedly set to washing her hands. But as she scooped a handful of soap into her palm, she suddenly grasped that this girl had also been doing the same, and just like that her mortification faded. She dried her hands and turned to the brunette, seeing that she'd gone back to her book and apple.

"So, why are you in here?" Lily wondered, a bit concerned. As a prefect, she felt responsible for the younger years and often took it upon herself to make sure they were happy and safe.

The girl smiled lightly, though her eyes were lowered to her lap. "I don't really have any friends and I get teased whenever I eat in the Great Hall by myself."

Experiencing a surge of sympathy, Lily sat herself beside the brunette and smiled at her warmly. "Well, I'll be your friend if you'd like."

Startled, the girl glanced up. "Oh no, that's all right. I know you're just being nice…"

"No, really," she pushed. "We're friends now. I've decided."

The girl laughed, her face lighting up. "You don't even know my name."

Lily studied her for a moment, seeing the Gryffindor tie and recognising the bushy hair. "It's Granger, isn't it? You're in Fourth Year," she smiled.

The girl seemed surprised but pleased. "Hermione Granger," she grinned.

"Well, I'm Lily Evans," the redhead offered kindly and held out her hand.

"I know," Hermione giggled, shaking it. "You're a prefect."

Blushing a little, Lily changed the subject. "So, what are you reading?"

Hermione blushed as well. "_Hogwarts: A History_. I've read it many times before but it's my favourite book."

"Mine too," Lily said in surprise.

The brunette smiled widely at her and, somewhere down in her chest, she felt her heart contract at the prettiness of the sight. Strangely, this encounter was the first time she'd been cheerful since her confrontation with Severus. She was somewhat unnerved by the fact that it was a girl who was making her giddy inside and want to grin more than she had in weeks, but she ignored those thoughts and scooted closer to Hermione.

For the rest of lunch, the two girls chatted about books and lessons. Lily was only slightly shocked to find that they were almost exactly alike; she had secretly suspected their similarities as soon as she'd come across her in the toilets. The next day, she waited for Hermione outside the Fourth Year's Ancient Runes class and walked with her to the Great Hall for lunch.

Hermione was hesitant to go in and face the crowds of people that included her usual tormentors—and in all honesty, Lily was just as reluctant to see Severus and Potter, but she knew she needed to appear confident for the younger girl's sake—so the redhead linked their hands and gently guided her inside.

Their entrance wasn't overly noticeable. A few heads turned as they passed by, but none continued to stare. It was only when they'd seated themselves beside one another and had just started to pull food onto their plates that someone called out to them.

"Oi, Evans!" Black shouted down the table.

Lily's vivid green eyes almost closed with exasperation and hopelessness but Hermione was looking at her and had stopped reaching for food so she merely clenched her jaw and behaved as if nothing had happened. The brunette relaxed beside her and did the same until a shadow fell over their shadows suddenly.

"Lily!" Potter grinned. "Good thing Sirius was paying attention or I would have missed you! Come sit with us, my love!"

Hermione was most definitely tense beside her now and Lily wanted to yell at the boy for making her upset. Instead, she turned to glare at him.

"Potter, I do not, nor will I ever, want to be anywhere near you, so kindly leave me in peace."

"Oh, Lily flower, you don't mean that—"

"Yes, I do," she snapped. "Go away!"

Hermione's head was quickly sinking and, uncaring of the boy annoying them, Lily took her hand and stroked it soothingly. Remus appeared behind his friend and took his arm.

"Come on, Prongs," he coaxed, "your food's getting cold and Peter was in the middle of his story."

Potter deliberated before huffing and stalking back to his seat. Lily sent Remus a grateful smile which he returned and then she bent low to Hermione's ear.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

Slowly the brunette relaxed again and gave her a small smile. "Yes, I'm fine. He just… makes me uncomfortable."

"Does Potter bully you?" Lily frowned angrily. Hermione only shrugged and picked up her fork, avoiding the green eyes watching her closely. Lily fumed inside but said nothing, knowing the brunette wouldn't say any more.

The two girls finished their lunch without another interruption, though as they left the Great Hall, Lily caught the remorseful gaze of Severus. Determinedly, she looked the other away and urged Hermione out of the room.

* * *

A few days later, Lily said goodnight to the petite brunette in their Common Room and departed for her own dormitory. The other girls in her year were already fast asleep in their beds after she and Hermione had stayed up late discussing the welfare of magical creatures, so she tiptoed around the room and quietly changed into her nightgown.

Just as she had snuggled down in her bed, a timid knock came at the door. Lily frowned and glanced over to her undisturbed roommates before going to open the door.

Hermione's distraught face greeted her and immediately the redhead gathered the younger girl in her arms.

"Mione, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly as the girl cried into her chest.

"The girls in my dorm wrecked my bed," Hermione sniffled. Lily wiped tenderly at the tears streaming down her face.

"It's all right," she crooned, pulling her into her room. "You can sleep the night here."

The brunette nearly collapsed onto Lily's bed and as the older girl held her tight under the covers, she inwardly promised retribution on Hermione's roommates.

* * *

Over the new several weeks, the two girls were inseparable outside of lessons. Many nights in the week, the two girls slept beside one another in Lily's bed, their bodies curled around each other. They held hands everywhere and ate meals together. They spent hours in the library, studying and doing homework. Not once did either eat alone in the girls' toilets again.

Though they were regularly badgered by Potter and his mates and observed intently by a certain Slytherin from afar, the two girls brushed off every incident with a carefree smile. Soon it was the end of the year; the Hogwarts Express pulled into Kings Cross Station and the two girls emerged holding hands with big smiles.

Each girl spotted their parents at opposite ends of the platform and exchanged a glance. For a moment, they both paused.

"I'll see you in a few weeks," Lily said. They had planned to visit one another during the summer holidays.

Hermione nodded then stared down at her feet in contemplation. "Lily…"

The redhead watched her, a strange emotion bubbling up through her ribs, but the brunette didn't continue. After a moment of internal debate, the older girl pulled Hermione towards her and kissed her on the mouth.

The smaller girl blinked.

"I'll owl you tonight," Lily grinned and then left the brunette to meet her parents.

A smile didn't leave either girls' lips for a long time.


	8. Long Time Coming

**AN: **So, it was brought to my attention that there had been no Harmony lemons so far. I tried out a different approach with this ficlet, but hopefully you still like it. Let me know what you'd like to see next!

* * *

**Title: **Long Time Coming

**Summary:** Harry goes over his memory of the previous night in which Ron's absence has an unexpected effect.

**Genre/s:** Romance &amp; Friendship

**Characters: **[Hermione G. &amp; Harry P.]

**Rating:** M

**Warning/s:** AU, language, smut

**Words: **1,149

* * *

It was bound to happen, Harry supposed.

His green eyes watched her peaceful face as she slept, his arms cradling her naked body. The tent was quiet and a little cold, the last warming charm having faded a while ago. Birds chirped musically from high branches outside as morning washed over the forest.

She was adorably like a kitten when asleep, cuddling up and practically purring whenever his fingers gently brushed down her spine. The sheet hung low off their waists and she shivered when a draft washed over them, so he covered them both fully again.

Last night had been unexpected at the time, but now, looking down at her, he realised that they had perhaps been leading up to this for years.

His childhood with the Dursleys certainly wasn't optimal. They hadn't cared for him beyond necessity and he'd known no better—until he arrived at Hogwarts. That train ride had been full of excitement and worry, a cocktail of emotions that brewed up inside him. He'd felt at home right away, despite any doubts, but the first time he felt loved was when she'd hugged him after being petrified.

To his best recall, he'd never been hugged before. He was sure his parents had done so when he was an infant but his only memory of them was their death. And when the Basilisk was killed and all the attacked students were free to leave the Hospital Wing, Hermione had rushed straight over and flung her arms around him.

Her bushy hair had tickled his nose, he remembered, and she had smelt a bit like cherries. He bent nearer to her shoulder now, to kiss it softly and breathe in her skin. Even after months of camping, she still smelt lovely. He suspected it might be due to the superb hygienic spells she'd taught him, or at least partly.

But that moment, one he'd always treasure because it was his very first hug, he'd felt completely and unquestionably loved.

Their friendship wasn't excessively affectionate. He guessed that she definitely touched him more than Ron, but that was probably because the two of them clashed tremendously sometimes. Yet all these years, he'd never looked at a girl the way he looked at her.

Despite his tendency to ignore her advice, her opinion was always the first he sought after. She'd saved him many times and he was forever trying to return the favour. It would never be enough, he knew, especially when he was still putting her in danger now.

But he was selfish and so he held her closer to him, smiling as she unconsciously tucked her head into his neck. That was how it had all started last night; his arms around her as she cried into his shoulder. Ron had left them and she'd felt betrayed. Of course, he felt betrayed as well but then it wasn't the first time Ron had left—he knew he'd be back, remorseful and sorry like he had Fourth Year.

She had sniffed and dried her tears on his jumper, though he said nothing to reprimand her, and eventually her sobs had died away.

He could still feel where her lips had pressed into his neck, even now.

They had fumbled around, discarding of clothes and kissing furiously, but once they both were bare they had only hugged. Looking back, he felt like they'd come full circle. After gripping each other tight, he'd cupped the back of her head and kissed her again, years of love spilling out.

Her small hands had clutched at his hips and pulled him towards her, more and more until they stumbled down onto the bed. Another first of his that he'd shared with her. Their bodies had thrashed together, moving restlessly before they'd even joined. He'd wondered if it was her first time as well but was afraid to ask.

She'd taken her wand and waved it over her stomach, muttering. A protection spell, she'd told him, so that no surprise awaited them in nine months. His lips twitched into a grin now, recalling how he'd coloured with embarrassment, as if he hadn't already been stark naked.

While he blushed and babbled nonsense, she'd only smiled and kissed his chin before grasping his erection in her hand and lining them up. The first push was fantastic. An incredible heat and wetness snug around him, tighter than he'd ever experienced before. He swore he'd seen stars.

But then she'd cried again and inadvertently answered his silent question. She had been a virgin as well and had likewise given herself to him.

When he'd tried to pull out, she'd stopped him and simply lay her head on his shoulder again. First times were always painful and awkward, she'd whispered and he would have laughed if he wasn't so apologetic for causing her harm.

Definitely it hadn't been the best; she'd wanted him to orgasm even though she wouldn't and had prompted him when he protested. The release came at a surprise and had shocked his system with pleasure. Afterwards he'd felt ashamed and pulled away. She had let him that time, curling in on herself, but she'd thanked him so sincerely that he stopped saying sorry.

After a few hours and some pain-relieving charms, they'd tried again—her idea—and as always she was right. The second time was much better.

They had groaned loudly and their hips had rolled together enough that he'd been sure their rhythm would never falter. Her lips had trailed down his jaw and she had gasped so sweetly when he'd suckled at her breasts. Their orgasm had been powerful and exhausting. He had buried himself deep within her and she'd bucked with shudders as he smothered her moan with a passionate kiss.

They were excellent together, he decided. They'd been drowsy with satisfaction and slept a little before she awoke him with her tongue teasing his member. He'd plucked her away before he could come and instead made her squirm relentlessly with his mouth exploring her delicate folds. When she'd frantically tugged at his messy hair, he'd allowed her to pull him up and slip him inside her once more.

By the time he was finished, he'd made her quake so much that her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she'd slumped back, limp and pleased.

He'd kissed her lips gently then and she'd half-heartedly kissed back before falling asleep. Only minutes hence, he now smiled and caressed her back. When his hands reached her pert arse, he rubbed his palm over the curve lovingly, a finger dipping down to touch her nether lips. She stirred as he kissed behind her ear and she stretched up against him.

Her brown eyes opened sluggishly and she smiled at him as she arched into his hand. And so, their dance began again, as if they'd never stopped.


	9. The Arrival of Prongslet

**AN:** First of all, I'm terribly sorry about the wait. Life suddenly caught up with me rather unexpectedly. This wasn't even the ficlet I wanted to put up next but this one was nearer to being finished so I decided to post it and give you guys a new chappy :]

Let me know who you'd like to see next. I was thinking about Charlie... Thoughts? There's a poll on my profile by the way for your favourite Hermione pairing, if you're interested. And a big thank you to everyone following this 'story' of sorts. You're all awesome :D

* * *

**Title: **The Arrival of Prongslet

**Summary: ** Lily goes into labour, James is a mess and Sirius finds himself spending some quiet moments with a certain bushy-haired healer at St. Mungo's.

**Genre/s: **Friendship &amp; Family

**Characters: **Sirius B. | Hermione G. | [James P. &amp; Lily Evans P.] | Remus L. | Harry P.

**Rating: **T

**Warning/s: **AU, language

**Words: **1,654

* * *

"I'm gonna be a dad, _a dad_," James babbled as he sat beside his wife, her hand clutching his painfully.

"Shut up, you bastard," Lily snapped and squeezed her eyes shut when another contraction hit her.

Remus put a hand on James' shoulder. "Mate, I think if you keep talking you'll be dead before the baby's born."

James looked up at him, his eyes suddenly glassy. "The baby's gonna be born soon. Moony, my son is gonna be here soon!"

"Oh god, chuck him out," Lily groaned, her teeth gritted.

Remus chuckled and left the married pair to themselves to find his other friend. The soon-to-be godfather was staring blankly into space as healers and patients' loved ones rushed around him in the busy St. Mungo's waiting room.

"You all right, Padfoot?" Remus watched him closely.

Sirius nodded dumbly.

The werewolf waited.

After a few moments, Sirius spoke. "Little Prongslet will be here soon." His voice cracked.

Remus laughed. "Merlin, you sound like James."

"James. How's James?" Sirius asked, as if his best friend was the one in labour.

"He's… going through some things," Remus smiled, amused.

Sirius nodded faintly.

The werewolf studied him and then asked softly in deeper concern, "You sure you're okay, Sirius?"

The black haired man stood up swiftly. "Yup. Never better. I've just got to, uh, take a walk." He turned sharply on his heel and wandered away, leaving Remus behind him to wait alone.

The werewolf sighed, knowing his friend wasn't fine at all. But he knew not to badger him about it and decided to leave him be, instead accessing the hospital Floo network to hurry Peter into getting here already.

* * *

Hermione was on her last shift of the day and definitely feeling exhaustion weigh down on her. She'd had to deal with a lot of fussy patients today, so watching the clock creep ever closer to two o'clock was glorious.

Just as she glanced up from her latest patient clipboard, a man with shaggy black hair walked past her in a daze. Her ward had been nearly empty for roughly an hour now, so she observed him curiously.

The young man was perhaps a year or two younger than her and was rather handsome, she noted. He seemed to be lost in thought, his brows furrowed above grey eyes. Leaning against a wall, he slid down it until he sat on the squeaky floor. He put his head to his knees and seemed to close his eyes tiredly.

With some concern, she watched him simply sit there for several minutes. Eventually, she signed her paperwork and left it for the medi-witch to deal with before going over to him.

He didn't notice her standing there until she spoke. "Everything all right, sir?"

Slowly his head propped up and he glanced at her, surprise flashing across his face when he realised she was talking to him. He nodded wordlessly and she sighed.

Debating for a moment, she perched herself beside him on the floor. He gazed at her in bewilderment. She smiled warmly at him. "What's your name?"

After a second, he cleared his throat. "Sirius."

"Sirius Black?" she inquired, her brown eyes widened slightly.

He looked at her suspiciously and she understood why; there was a war brewing after all. But he must have decided she was harmless because he then hummed in agreement.

"I was a couple years above you in Hogwarts," she explained, smiling, and held out her hand. "Hermione Granger."

He shook it quietly. "Hi."

Feeling a tad awkward, she glanced around before turning back to him. "So, why you here?"

"Best mate's having a baby."

"Ah," she nodded, "I see. Why you down here then? This isn't the maternity ward."

He shook his head. "It's less busy here… I could breathe easier."

She studied him, her mind working furiously to understand the situation in front of her. "And you're feeling overwhelmed," she guessed.

He looked at her, shocked. "Well…"

She narrowed her eyes speculatively. "Do you think a baby is going to change your friendship with James? It is James, I assume—I heard he got married not long ago."

"Yeah, it's James," he replied slowly. "And no, that's not what I'm worried about."

She cocked her head at him. "Then what's wrong?"

Sirius looked at her intently. She had bushy brown hair and sharp brown eyes like she knew all about him. He tried to place her from Hogwarts but found himself at a loss. She must not have been very note-worthy if he couldn't remember her at all. She wasn't terrible looking, but certainly not a beauty queen, so he understood why she didn't leave an impression on him.

But despite all that, despite having only just met her, he felt like he could trust her. She had a very open nature about her which he admired. She had brought him out of his slump and worried whether he was all right, even though they were strangers.

So he told her what had been plaguing his mind since James frantically Floo-called him, saying Lily's water had broken.

"They want me to be godfather," he revealed. "And I love them for trusting me enough, really I do, but… I'm not ready to be a godfather. I don't think I'll ever be ready."

She watched him silently and he appreciated that she didn't call him a coward. It seemed she was waiting for him to continue. His shoulders slumped and he titled his head back against the wall behind him, taking a few deep breaths.

"I won't be good at it," he confided quietly. "I know I won't be. I'll never be good enough for that boy. I never wanted to be a father; I'm too screwed up for that. How will this be any different?"

"Because it won't be your child," she reminded kindly. "You'll be the uncle figure that flits in and out of the baby's life. While he screams at his parents and makes them lose sleep, you get to be the favourite, the one that spoils him, _and_ you get to avoid smelly nappies and hungry bellies."

He chuckled weakly. "I guess."

"Well… do you love the baby?" she asked and he looked at her in slight surprise.

"Of course!"

"Then you'll be fine," she smiled softly. "I bet that in ten years, that child will be the centre of your life and you'd do anything for him. That kind of dedication and devotion doesn't equate with bad parenting—even god-parenting."

Sirius studied his hands. She watched him in silence before reaching over to put her hand on his knee.

"I heard you moved in with James' family several years ago and yours disowned you…" she trailed off. He glanced up cautiously and she realised that _this_ was the crux of his troubles. "Your family wasn't the best. If you could have parents like that and still turn out—_pretty_ good," she allowed and a smile touched his lips, "then I'm sure the baby will be perfect with you as a godfather."

"But…"

"You won't screw up," she promised.

"How do you know that?" He looked desperate for reassurance.

"Because I know you're a good person who doesn't give up. And you'll make a wonderful godfather. Everyone makes mistakes; that's life. You learn from them and move on. The boy will be just fine."

He gazed at her for a long while before nodding absently. The two settled into another silence and she was pleased to note that his shoulders had stopped tensing. It was perhaps another five or ten minutes until either moved.

Hermione glanced at the clock and saw a new patient entering her ward. She looked over to Sirius. "Well then, you're likely being missed. You better head back to the maternity ward."

"I thought labour took hours," he blinked.

She nodded. "Can do. But James probably needs calming down."

"Don't you mean Lily?"

She laughed. "No."

He laughed too, feeling much lighter than he had earlier. Pulling himself up, he offered a hand to her and helped her stand. He hesitated before leaving; their eyes locked.

"Thank you," he told her in a low, sincere voice.

She smiled. "You're welcome. Now off with you."

* * *

"What d'ya think, Padfoot?" James asked softly, dazed like all new fathers.

Sirius couldn't take his eyes away from the bundle of blankets cradled so very carefully in his friend's arms. "He's perfect, Prongs."

"Wanna hold him?"

"What?" his eyes now shot to James, who laughed quietly to avoid waking his new-born son.

"Don't sound so surprised."

Sirius hesitated. "I dunno, Jamie, I don't think I'm qualified to hold him right."

"Qualified?" James snorted. "And you think I am?

"Yeah, but…" the estranged Black shrugged. "You're his father."

"And you're his godfather."

The new dad watched his best friend shift with discomfort, needlessly worrying as he stared at baby Harry. Eventually, James sighed.

"Come on, Pads, just hold out your arms and I'll help you cradle him."

"What if I drop him?" Sirius asked quickly, but James was already manoeuvring the baby into his arms. And in spite of all his worries, Sirius held him like it was natural, like he was born to do just that. He barely needed his friend's help at all.

James smiled at him wryly. "You won't," he promised and let the new godfather hold Harry without any other support.

Sirius studied his charge in awe, taking note of each little toe and each little finger that curled inwards, both chubby cheeks and both pouted pink lips. He was magnificent. Little eyelashes fluttered apart to reveal stunning green eyes that he knew would darken soon enough to match Lily's emerald gaze.

Sirius felt another pair of eyes watching him from afar and had a strong feeling that they belonged to a certain clever brunette witch. He smiled down at his godson.

"Hello, Prongslet. Welcome home."


	10. Belle of the Ball

**AN: **So I had the same problem with this ficlet as I did with _Inseparable Souls_ \- it felt very rushed and I wasn't sure how to change it. Sigh. On that note, I'm not very happy with the last story's banner, but I was at a loss for inspiration so it will have to do until I, maybe, find something better. I edited the banner for _My Pet Bee_ for similar reasons. Hope you like it ;]

In regards to this chappy, I went with the film version of the Yule Ball rather than the book because the reactions are just hilarious and perfect :D And in regards to Friday, happy Halloween to those that celebrate it!

To my guest reviewer, Anna, I will be posting up a James/Hermione ficlet next just for you! Luckily, I've had one half written out for ages :] A James/Hermione/Lily story sounds interesting too - I'll think more on it and hopefully post one sometime in the future, though regrettably it probably won't be particularly soon. Sorry!

* * *

**Title: **Belle of the Ball

**Summary: **Charlie is asked to be a supervisor at the Yule Ball and expects it to make for a boring evening. He doesn't expect to be enraptured by his little brother's best friend.

**Genre/s: **Romance

**Characters:** [Hermione G. &amp; Charlie W.] | Ron W.

**Rating:** T

**Warning/s: **AU, age difference

**Words:** 1,860

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, so gracious of you to stay behind and help out," Professor Dumbledore smiled.

Charlie shrugged. "It's no problem, Headmaster. Plus, I thought I'd take the opportunity to heckle my little brother in his awful dress robes." He grinned.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed. Who would pass up such an occasion? Well, I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight then, Mr. Weasley. And again, excellent work with the dragons. I'm glad to see you living your dream." The old man winked and moved again leaving Charlie to smile.

He had been asked ever so politely if he could stick around Hogwarts and chaperone the Yule Ball that was to take place. Apparently, some of the teachers and other attending adults would likely be taking advantage of the offered alcohol and thus unable to properly supervise randy children.

He glanced at the carefully guarded firewhiskey and smirked. Though he had acquired quite a taste for the poison, he restrained himself, knowing he had to remain sober.

Not many students were around yet, all still getting ready, and he looked down at himself to study his own robes. He'd dressed up a little for the party—well, as much as his wardrobe allowed. He hadn't known he would be needing formal attire when he packed for this excursion, so his outfit consisted of relatively normal clothes that were comfortable and warm.

He positioned himself in the Entrance Hall, where he would be able to see all the students coming down from the Grand Staircase, and settled down on a bench. Brimming with barely withheld anticipation, he waited for the pupils, namely Ron, to arrive.

Oh, when he'd owled his mother and she mentioned sending his brother some dress robes, he just knew he couldn't miss tonight. He wondered if Fred and George had heard anything of it yet; they'd never let Ron live it down. He grinned.

* * *

Soon the Entrance Hall was bustling and Charlie was surrounded by children. Only those in Fourth Year and up were permitted to attend the ball unless they were invited as a date, so he had been told to shuffle along the younglings that wanted to gawk or sneak inside. He had just gently reprimanded a few Second Year girls who had been hanging around the Great Hall doors a tad too long when his youngest brother came bumbling down the steps with his best friend Harry. While the Boy Who Lived looked smashing in his formal robes, Charlie had to hide his chortle at Ron's appearance.

Biting down hard on his tongue, he made his way over to them—Ron's face went red at the sight of his older brother.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he squeaked, halfway between outrage and humiliation.

"Couldn't miss the chance to see you like that," Charlie grinned cheekily and poked at the ruffles around his brother's neck. Ron slapped his hand away, even redder than before.

"Sod off," he grumbled, embarrassed.

Chuckling, Charlie turned to Harry. "Good job with the Horntail, mate. I knew you'd do well."

"Thanks," the boy mumbled shyly but clearly pleased with the praise. Charlie patted his shoulder and moved away as two young ladies (their dates, he assumed) approached, though not before aiming a teasing wink Ron's way.

He watched with suppressed laughter as Professor McGonagall commented on his brother's robes and then as he dragged his reluctant date into the Great Hall half-heartedly. He seated himself again and was just growing bored, when something caught his eye. Taking a second glance, he found a young girl descending the marble staircase.

His breathing hitched.

She was lovely; downright stunning in her flowing robes. Pink cheeked with elegantly knotted brunette hair, she was the picture of divine innocence as she made her way down with light steps and a timid smile.

Charlie was well and thoroughly enchanted.

His daze broke only when none other than Viktor Krum took her arm and guided her into the Great Hall. His mouth practically gaped after them, still overwhelmed by how striking she looked.

It had been years since he'd glanced twice at a girl. Dragons had been his life for so long, he'd never even taken a girl home to meet his family. But this girl… he couldn't understand her allure yet at the same time he didn't care.

She already had him wrapped around her little finger without even looking at him.

Feeling rather pathetic, his gaze watched her through the doors as she danced with Krum. Suddenly, she turned her head and laughed prettily into her hand and he realised with a start who he'd been staring at for so long.

This was Hermione Granger, Ron's other best friend. This was the girl he'd met at the Burrow, the girl he travelled to the Quidditch World Cup with, the girl his brother had mentioned a few times in his letters and was so obviously starting to fancy.

_She's seven years younger than you, Weasley!_ he hissed at himself. _Only fifteen, for Merlin's sake! _Not two weeks ago, he had turned twenty-two himself and the reminder only made him feel worse. _Robbing the cradle much?_

But then, just for a moment, her gaze caught his and he straightened instantly, his expression smoothing out. It lasted perhaps two seconds and then she looked away, back at her date (_bloody Krum,_ he grumbled), and he was left to watch her with a thumping heart.

He contemplated what he should do and then scolded himself. _Do what? I can't do anything! I _shouldn't_ do anything! She's too young. Restrain yourself, you lecherous old man._

So for the next few hours, he sat grumpily outside the Great Hall, observing the celebrations with a heavy stomach, trying very hard not to look at Hermione again. He was highly unsuccessful of course—every few seconds, it seemed, his eyes locked onto her lithe form and it took much control to force his gaze away—but he decidedly thought nothing on this.

* * *

Couples who had snuck outside to snog were chased back in by Snape and he himself turned back several more younger students and urged them to bed. However, after much dancing and cheer inside the Great Hall, students began departing, tired but flushed with happiness. Even teachers started to stumble out the oak doors. Charlie sighed, glad his job was nearly over.

A commotion leapt up in the hall and then, abruptly, the very girl he'd been mooning over stormed out with fury written over her face. Without even knowing he was doing it, he jumped up and followed her.

"Hermione!" he called and she turned, looking ready to shout. Upon seeing him, she stopped and blinked.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice still shaking with restrained irritation.

He shifted and made himself walk over to her calmly. His blood was thick in his veins. "Are you all right? You look… upset. And beautiful," he quickly added, unable to stop himself, "very beautiful."

She blushed immediately and he inwardly grinned, giving himself a mental pat on the back. "Oh. Well… thank you. It's just… your brother is—" And she cut herself off, angry once again.

"A humungous prat who couldn't see past his own nose," he helpfully supplied.

Surprised, she laughed. "Yes, exactly." He smiled at her and inconspicuously broadened his shoulders, hoping to look strong and chiselled. The masculine display seemed lost on her. She glanced away and then frowned. "Not that it isn't nice to speak with you, but why are you here?"

"Dumbledore asked me to supervise the ball," he replied easily.

"I see. I thought you'd need to get back to Romania."

He shrugged. "I wanted to see Ron's robes."

Her lips twitched uncontrollably. "They are ridiculous, aren't they?"

Chuckling, he nodded. "Best thing I've seen in years!"

She smiled and looked down.

Licking his lips, he searched for something, anything, to say. "Did you have a good time tonight?"

"Yes, thank you—at least, I did until Ron accused me of sabotaging Harry's chances in the tournament." She huffed.

"Why'd he do that?" Charlie frowned.

"Because I accompanied Viktor Krum to the ball tonight," she blushed again but this time his insides turned.

"Stupid git," he remarked absently. Then he said, "If I could have gone myself, I would have asked you to go with me instead."

Hermione blushed harder and glanced at him beneath her lashes. "I'm sure you wouldn't have but thank you for saying so."

"No, really," he enthused and stepped forwards to carefully grab her hand. He stroked it gently. _Her skin is so soft, _he tortured himself. "You look… spectacular."

Her brown eyes widened as he stared into them and she sputtered a little. Her shock was enough to bring him to his senses and he swiftly pulled back, letting her go.

"I'm sorry," he said, grimacing. "I shouldn't have… I should get back to chaperoning."

_Fifteen! _he yelled at himself, though his hand tingled where his flesh had touched hers.

"No, no," he heard her stutter behind him as he walked away. Heart in his throat, he froze and turned to look at her. She had an arm out as if reaching for him and her lips were smiling nervously. "It's… all right. Thank you. You look handsome too."

He blinked at her and she reddened.

After a moment of awkward silence, he smiled. "Thanks. Not my best clothes, I'll admit. But that dress…" he pointedly looked her up and down and whistled. "I may have to steal it from you; it's gorgeous."

She smiled wider, a strangely girlish giggle bursting from her throat. "I'll send it to you in the mail once I've taken it off."

His face blanched at that while his mind conjured up rather inappropriate images. He shook them away to smirk at her coyly. "On the other hand, perhaps it's the model I like rather than the dress itself."

Fidgeting, she fingered her dress. "Well, I can't very mail _myself_ to you."

Her uncomfortable attempt at flirting made him think vividly about her age once again and he almost smacked himself. _What is wrong with me? For Godric's sake, Wealsey._

"How about we exchange letters?" he suggested, trying to curve away from the direction their conversation was taking.

She looked quite thankful for this and her face lit up. "Okay!" she responded eagerly then flushed.

He grinned. _She's too cute. _"Great. I'll have to leave for Romania soon; I'll send you a letter once I get there. May take a little while to reply, what with work and all, but—"

"That's fine," she interrupted quickly and smiled. "I'll be busy helping Harry anyway."

He nodded, smiling back. "Good luck with that," he wished her sincerely.

"Good luck with the dragons." And after another little blushing smile she bid him goodnight and left up the stairs.

Staring after her, he let out a big breath of air, uncertain about what he'd just gotten himself into but still rather exhilarated to see how it played out. His only regret was missing the chance to at least kiss her cheek. _Patience, _he reassured himself, _there's always the future…_


	11. Student Out Of Bed

**AN: **My apologies for the two-month wait, my keyboard has not been working at all. I'm using a temporary solution at the moment so the next update might be a bit slow too, though hopefully not longer than a week. Please ignore any mistakes in this chappy; I wanted to post it as soon as possible for you all :] Also, happy New Year and I hope everyone had a great Christmas!

On a side note, what ficlets do you want to see next? Any particular pairing or scenario in mind? Let me know! The banner for the last chappy has been up for a while - and it's my personal favourite so far :D Anywho, Anna, here is your James/Hermione ficlet ;]

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**Title: **Student Out Of Bed

**Summary:** Professor Granger is doing her night patrol around the Hogwarts Castle when she runs into the Head Boy who, apparently, just can't sleep.

**Genre/s:** Romance &amp; Humour

**Characters:** [Hermione G. &amp; James P.]

**Rating:** M

**Warning/s:** AU, OOC, professor/student relationship, small age difference, smut, language

**Words: **2,664

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Professor Hermione Granger sighed as she glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time.

She had been patrolling for almost three hours, having run into several students not in their dorms as they should be and instead either wandering the halls aimlessly or, more often than not, engaging in activities that she really would rather not have interrupted.

But it was her job as a teacher in this school to stop rule-breakers so stop them she would.

She was quite sure those Fifth Years had broken several rules, one of which being the law for underage sex, but she wouldn't tattle on them.

That would involve an embarrassing conversation on her part.

And frankly, deducting House points or dealing out detentions was much more satisfying.

_I wonder if the age for sexual intercourse is different in the wizarding world,_ she thought idly. It had never occurred to her to check and, really, she'd had no need to do so upon entering the magical world not twelve years ago at age eleven.

She could only imagine Madam Pince's reaction if she had asked which library books discussed sexual intercourse and consent within the magical community.

As she walked through the corridors, she rubbed at her eyes. It had been a dreadfully long day. She'd been woken much earlier than she had intended to get up by some ruckus outside her quarters, which she then had to put a stop to and thus refrain from sleeping. And who else had been the cause of such chaos? Bloody James Potter and Sirius Black. Her eyes narrowed simply at the thought.

Even her lessons had passed by torturously slowly and, whenever it seemed she had a moment to spare, some student needed her advice or wanted to babble about some nonsense. She was at her wit's end by dinner time.

Her fellow professors had clearly understood her fatigue, leaving her alone to eat in silence. After dinner there were stacks of essays to go through and mark—she'd glanced at the clock every five minutes and at her bedroom door every two minutes.

And just when she decided to give up and go to sleep, she remembered that it was her turn to patrol the school corridors tonight.

It would be a vast understatement to suggest that she was anxious to get into bed.

The whole time she'd been on patrol, her feet had moved methodically without need to really pay attention. She knew this school like the back of her hand. If only she could get away with sleep-walking through the patrol…

Her face brightened now as she realised where she was.

_Yes! Just these last few bends and the First Floor is done! Just the Ground Floor left and that shouldn't take too long,_ she gleefully thought.

And then her wonderful fantasy of her warm bed and comfy pyjamas was shattered as shoes squeaked abruptly against the floor just when she turned the corner.

One of the older students, a tall boy with thin rectangular glasses and wild ebony hair, stood with a piece of blank parchment in his hand and a badge attached to his robes.

She wanted to cry. _Merlin's furry toes, not another student to scold._

"Just because you are Head Boy, Mr. Potter, does not mean you can simply wander the halls at night," she said sternly. "We have a curfew for a reason."

"Right, right," he nodded quickly. "Sorry, I did know that. I just… well, I can't sleep."

She gave him a sharp look. _Honestly, is that supposed to excuse his behaviour? _Internally sighing and wishing she didn't have to deal with this when she was so close to finishing her patrol, she decided to let him off with a warning.

"Mr. Potter, if you do not repeat this occurrence and go to bed immediately, I will not take any points."

He grinned brightly. "Really? Thanks, Professor! I mean, uh, sure, I promise it'll never happen again."

Though she didn't believe him in the slightest (_What does he take me for? A drunk doxy?_), she disregarded her better instincts and simply inclined her head.

She was scarcely older than the oldest students in the school, having been employed this very academic year at twenty-two years old. Often times she felt the need to act much older than her actual age, as not only was she ridiculously young in comparison to her colleagues but the students wouldn't take her seriously if she acted her real age.

Caught up in her thoughts, she realised a few seconds late that Potter was still stood there, staring at her with a strange expression on his admittedly handsome (_Best not dwell on that…_) face.

"I hope you do not need me to escort you to your own tower, Mr. Potter," she frowned at him. "I would assume after seven years that you would know your way around the school."

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine, but could I just, um, join you on your patrol?" he stammered out. "I really can't sleep."

Thoroughly impatient and irritated now, she sighed loudly. "Very well. I am almost finished. Do not dither and try to keep quiet. You will return to bed once I am done."

Grinning like he'd won the Quidditch World Cup, he nodded.

She tried to ignore his presence, preferring to pretend he wasn't there and she could therefore go to bed without any other aggravation hitting her.

It seemed he didn't reciprocate her feelings.

"It was my birthday yesterday, you know," he laughed nervously before rambling on. "Well, not yesterday—technically it would have been the day before yesterday now, I guess. But, uh…"

"Congratulations," she said stiffly, not sure what else to say. _Why is he telling me this?_

"Thanks," he smiled wide, running a hand through his already chaotic black hair. "I'm eighteen now," he stated.

She almost sighed. "Clearly."

"An adult." He sounded like he was making a point. She gave him a peculiar look. "Don't Muggles class eighteen as the start of adulthood?" Now he sounded worried.

"Yes, they do," she confirmed, outwardly bored with the conversation. Somewhere inside her head, a voice popped up to tease her: _He's legal now._

He was quiet then, wandering along beside her. His voice was low when he spoke again. "Sorry about this morning."

She made a noise of acknowledgment but didn't say anything about forgiveness—it would be a lie after all. He interrupted her sleep. He could not be forgiven.

Her sharp gaze saw him peeking at her every few moments. They both said nothing.

When they turned a corner, his hand brushed along hers innocently, but it was enough to startle Hermione and she stumbled away from him. He caught her when she fell, his arms tight around her slim waist.

The sensation was rather thrilling. His hands were rough and his arms strong from countless Quidditch matches and he held her firmly, the heat of his fingers penetrating through her robes. She felt a bit faint. _I haven't been held like this in a long time…_

She looked up, her breathing heavy from her tumble, and she was locked in his gaze. He watched her with wide eyes, seemingly captivated, and she became quickly aware of how inappropriate this was. She pulled away and righted herself before continuing on without pause.

After a moment, he followed behind quietly, and she felt the burn of his stare in her back.

_Stupid,_ she scolded herself furiously. _He's a student! You're his professor, his guardian! He may flirt with you like he does most girls and he may even watch you a little too closely for mere platonic interest but that does not give you the right to enjoy silly fantasies that go against your moral code!_

While lost in her fierce self-disapproval, he had started to talk again.

"You look very lovely today, Professor," he smiled crookedly.

She gave him a side-glance and nothing more, resisting the urge to blush like—well, like a school girl.

"If I may ask," he began charmingly, "how old are you?"

She sputtered. "That is entirely none of your business, Mr. Potter!"

"No, no, of course not," he backtracked quickly, ruffling his hair again. "I just wondered… um… that is, do you think we could—"

"Mr. Potter," she interrupted and he swung round to look at her eagerly, "my patrol is over. It's time for you to go to bed."

He deflated. "Right. Uh, could I walk with you back upstairs?"

Wanting to scream at him to go away, she refrained and thought logically, _I suppose his Common Room _is_ on the Seventh Floor and my quarters _are_ on the way._

"Fine," she replied shortly and swiftly turned on her heel back towards the Grand Staircase.

He jogged to catch up with her and ran a hand through his hair again.

She watched him from the corner of her eye secretly, eyeing his lithe body and handsome face, lingering on his exposed forearms from where he'll roll up his sleeves to his elbows, glancing at the loose tie slung around his neck. Unable to stop herself, she entertained fantasies of him walking in front of her so that she could stare at his tight arse. She bit her tongue harshly.

The walk to her quarters was silent and quick. Hermione was eager to leave the Head Boy's presence lest she do something inappropriate.

Her door was in plain sight, just a few feet away, when a strong hand grabbed hers quickly and turned her around. James caged her within his arms, pushing her back gently against the wall and she gasped.

"Mr. Potter, this is entirely—" she began to protest, struggling.

But his lips silenced her and in her shock she kissed him back automatically.

He tasted wonderful, she noted. Like chocolate and vanilla. _Must be something he ate._

After a moment, she realised that she really wasn't protesting anymore, nor trying to push him away. Instead, her arms had crept up without her knowledge and wrapped themselves around his shoulders. _Traitors!_

She tried to convince herself that she wasn't enjoying this and that, really, she should be a responsible adult and stop all this nonsense. But her tongue betrayed her, slipping into his mouth to dual battle with his.

They stumbled towards the door to her quarters blindly. Just when she felt the doorknob jab into her back, he pulled away from her, his glasses askew.

"I'm sorry," he panted, "I shouldn't have—"

But she had already unlocked her door and pulled him inside, shutting it behind him.

He blinked with surprise, seeming astonished that she had let him into her quarters, but she didn't let him speak. If he did, she'd likely lose her nerve. She pulled him to her quickly and kissed him.

With surprising dominance, he pressed her against the wall, his lips still secured to hers, and held her wrists up either side of her head. She moaned beneath him. When he deviated from her mouth to kiss down her neck, she hitched one of her thighs up around his hip to pull him closer.

"You—" he placed a kiss on her collarbone "—are so—" kiss "—beautiful." Kiss.

She pushed her hips against his more firmly.

"Shut up," she said breathlessly and snogged him again with much hunger.

He pulled back determinedly. His eyes swirled with mischief and raw lust. "Oh no, I'm going to worship your body all night and you'll be helpless to stop me." He sucked on her pulse hard and she whimpered once, her hands clenching into fists above her.

"I think you should remember," she murmured, "that little boys do as they're told."

In a flash, James was laying on her bed, spread-eagle, his arms and legs restrained by an invisible force. He gaped at her in awe and she smirked. _I do love a little wandless non-verbal magic._

She sauntered towards him slowly, enjoying having this delectable young man under her control. He still wore only his trousers, the muscles in his chest and arms making her mouth water, and nothing could conceal the bulge at his groin. His hazel eyes were locked on her.

Standing at the foot of the bed, she reached beneath her robes and slyly slipped her lacy knickers down her legs. As the lingerie revealed itself and was flung delicately onto the floor, James made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Hermione felt a rush of satisfaction. She'd never been particularly active or adventurous in her sexual exploits during the past, and she'd certainly never been with someone years younger than her; she was mildly surprised at how the sense of power excited her, how adored she felt from this young man's attention.

She climbed upon the bed beside him and stroked his bare torso. He shuddered at her touch and continued to look up at her pleadingly. With a coy smile, she leaned down and brushed her lips against his. He kissed back desperately, nearly whining when she stopped.

Shifting the material of her robes further up her legs, she moved the straddle him, her thighs either side his hips, sitting herself comfortably upon his crotch. He weakly bucked upward into her, his eyes fixed on hers. She took pity on him and took off her robes carefully, maintaining her position. The clothing was piled onto the floor beside the bed messily, but she paid it no mind. She would tidy up later.

Now that she was naked, James' eyes were wide, his mouth open, and his member strained beneath her even more so. She leaned down and pressed kisses into his abdomen, his chest, his collarbone, then finally his lips.

When she pulled back, his neck arched to follow but was unable to. "Please," he begged throatily. She wasn't entirely sure what he wanted exactly but she could take a good guess.

She turned herself so that she faced his feet and scooted backwards until her core rested over his mouth. Without hesitation, his tongue touched her swollen folds and lapped at her wetness. She groaned but concentrated on undoing his belt and trousers.

They slipped over his slim hips easily then he helped her by kicking them down and off his legs. She studied his privates with a smirk. It pulsed and stood to attention. While James was busy pleasing her, she leant down and licked a line down his member. He groaned quietly.

She wasn't a huge fan of foreplay but decided he deserved a treat after going through all the trouble of seducing her. Gently, she slipped the crown of his head into her wet mouth and suckled.

Shudders ran up his torso as he paused his ministrations on her. "Fuck, that's good," he murmured and continued to kiss and lick at her folds.

Her hands rubbed along the base of his erection, stroking the skin hard enough to make his pelvis jerk, while she sucked more of him into her mouth. His own lips encircled her nub, his tongue nudging at the spongy button, and she moaned around him.

She must have inadvertently increased the pressure of her suction, because he suddenly shouted out with pleasure, holding her hips tight above him as fluid streamed into her mouth. Though surprised, she caressed him with her tongue and swallowed once he was finished. She licked him clean.

Then she realised that he had gone still beneath her, his fingers no longer gripping her hips and his mouth no longer attached to her lower regions. She sat up quickly and moved herself off of him. With great shock and disgruntlement, she saw that he had dozed off in the aftermath of his coital bliss. She poked and prodded at him, but he was too far into unconsciousness to be easily roused.

Her brown eyes narrowed and she scoffed. "So much for not being able to sleep. Git."


End file.
